


Recruiting Trent (These Masks We Wear)

by Celebrusc



Series: The Prince and the Rogue [10]
Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Dino Thunder
Genre: Dark!Tommy, Gen, dark au, implied previous torture, one little swear word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celebrusc/pseuds/Celebrusc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trent is finally free from the evil influence of his dinogem.<br/>It isn't until the other Rangers have left the Lair to go home that Trent remembers what Mesagog's files said about Tommy Oliver, and begins to wonder is he's simply jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recruiting Trent (These Masks We Wear)

**Author's Note:**

> You shouldn't need to read the rest of the series for this to make sense. Especially as the chapters that would help it make sense are still sitting on my computer. I've had a several month writing block for the next scene that is just beginning to break. But the 6k after that is written and beta'd. This however has been sitting on my computer since Easter, figured I'd post it as a peace offering.  
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers, or any of the characters in this work. No profits are being made.

 

_There is more than meets the eye, don’t you know that people lie?_

 

__

_ 6.45pm, Saturday, 26th January, 2013 _

 

It had been a long day. A long day to end a long month. Trent was shaking from both exhaustion and adrenaline; the fight had been fun, almost dying hadn’t, almost falling off the soap sud covered Zords had been terrifying. The slight swaying of the room told Trent his blood sugar levels were through the floor, which made sense when you added Ranger metabolism to the fact he hadn’t eaten since lunch. Apparently, the Black Ranger also seemed to have had enough, because Dr Oliver’s voice cut across Conner’s attempts at reassurance. “It’s getting quite late, I think it’s time you guys headed home. May be do some homework?”

“Oh come on, dude, it’s a Saturday.” Ethan whined next to him.

“If you have so much free time, I could always increase the training?”

There was mutters and groans around Trent, as the other Rangers pushed to their feet and headed towards the door. Trent followed them, relieved. The spike in shakes nothing to do with fear about returning home. He needed to check his Dad was alright.

“Not you, Trent.” He froze, attempting to swallow in a mouth abruptly dry.

The others must have stopped moving as well, because the Black Ranger was promising to see that he got home.

“Are you sure it can’t wait, Dr O? He kinda looks like he’s going to fall over any minute.” Trent found himself staring at Conner in disbelief. Because much as he agreed with the Red Ranger’s assessment of his state, he couldn’t believe the soccer player was arguing with Tommy Oliver. Even if the Rangers didn’t know their teacher’s full history, could they not feel the raw strength of his power? The pressure of which was all that was stopping Trent from bolting.

“I’m sure, Conner, I’ll see that he’s okay.”

There was warmth in the Black Ranger’s voice, but to Trent it barely masked the steel. As the others left, his stomach lurched. Whilst part of his mind sought the familiar reassurance from his teacher’s presence - the man was his friend, now team mate, and had been the first to reassure him he had not been to blame - the greater part remembered the details contained within Mesagog’s files. Details that had led to his dark self taking out the Black Ranger first.

“My office is on the first floor, second door on the left. I’ll join you there in a minute, Trent.”

He was already turning way from Trent as he spoke, dismissing the young artist. There was no doubt in either tone or posture that the White Ranger would follow the order. The teen managed a jerky nod, before heading through the doorway the others had used. His brain helpfully reminding him of everything he had done to the man he was leaving downstairs, the man whose mercy he was fully aware he was now at. Even if the man claimed Trent had saved his life that afternoon, the teenager wasn’t so sure. Focusing in order not to stumble he climbed the stairs, forcing back the bile in his throat.

Once he had found the room, Trent stood in front of the large wooden desk waiting. He felt like he was in the Principal’s Office. Only worse. Which considering the relationships between Randall, Elsa, Mesagog, and his Dad, was quite an achievement. The White Ranger didn’t know how long he had stood there, though he had finally managed to get his breathing under control, when he heard the door click shut behind him. Hard as it was, Trent didn’t turn around, keeping his eyes firmly on the desk in front of him. After a moment, a voice, cold and calculating, spoke from behind him.

“How much do you know about me?”

Trent dug his finger nails into his palms in an effort to stop the suddenly renewed trembling. Because fuck, that wasn’t Tommy Oliver speaking anymore, that was _Thomas_. Between Mesagog’s files and the little he had managed to get out of his Dad, Trent knew the difference. Knew he had to tread very carefully if he wanted to avoid a lot of pain. The section of the Alliance treaty protecting children, and the five months until his eighteenth birthday, was all that was giving him a hope of getting out of here alive.

“I won’t tell.” Trent blurted out desperately.

“That’s good.” The voice agreed readily from over his shoulder, before dropping in warning. “But not what I asked. How much do you know, Trent?”

The teenager tried to swallow, before eventually answering. “Mesagog had files on you.” Trent managed. “I read them.”

“That’s the how, Trent. Shall we see if third time is the charm? _How much?_ ”

“I… What you are. Your titles, your basic history and accomplishments. Your powers, your involvement with the project. It also covered the various treaties and arrangements.” He rushed out.

“Sounds like it was quite informative.” Thomas was closer now, Trent could feel the heat on the back of his neck as the man spoke. “Still, if it mentioned the Treaties then you know I cannot kill you.”

“Or permanently maim, yeh.” Trent choked off a laugh. “Mesagog made quite a point of how limited that restriction was.”

“I can assure you, Trent, I’ve pushed the limits of that clause far greater than that reptile could even imagine.” Trent’s heart stopped. “There is no need to worry just now though, you would have to do something quite serious to make me that furious. You haven’t even come close. However, considering what you know, and all that has happened the last few days, is this really how you think you should be greeting me?”

Trent thought carefully for a moment, trying to remember the details of what he had read through a haze of exhaustion and mind control. Slowly he sank to one knee, head bowed, eyes fixed firmly on the short twisting strands of green carpet beneath him. Speaking, he opted for the title he had seen only in passing. “Gridmaster.”

The dampened sound of footfalls moved around Trent’s left side, until Thomas was standing in front of him. Overly warm fingers brushed across the teen’s dark hair as he desperately hoped he had chosen correctly. “Interesting choice.” The voice was amused, and infinitely softer than it had been so far, which Trent took as a positive. “Whilst technically correct, Gridmaster is usually only used as a form of address by Rangers who has sworn an oath of service to the Master of their Power. It’s quite an obscure term, I’m curious as to how you encountered it. Prince, or Sir, would be more typical in this situation.” Trent filed that away, and prayed that he would never be in this situation again. “As for your form, your back should be straighter and your shoulders back. You are strong, Trent, and submitting with that strength. Not cowering.” Personally, Trent felt like he was cowering, but adjusted his posture at the instructions. Not suicidal enough to mention his thoughts. “Better. Finally your Morpher, in this case your Dinogem cuff, should be openly rested upon your raised knee. That’s it. Good. Considering you didn’t have any real instruction you chose very well. I’m impressed, Trent.”

The teenager let himself relax slightly in relief, right up until the pulse of pleasure at the praise flowed through him. Trent was aware enough to know it was from an external source, and had it been in response to Conner, he might have anticipated it. Mesagog had made a point of educating him of the manipulating influence the Power exuded over its Rangers. But there had been nothing to imply the Black Ranger would induce such a reaction, resulting in it sending Trent straight back on edge. “Now you mentioned titles, can you be a bit more specific?

Not really, Trent wanted to say. He was tired. He wasn’t even sure what his own birthday was at this point. The adrenaline was the only thing keeping him at all functional. “Prince in White,” He managed, it had been the one that came up the most. He had just started the next when the Prince interrupted him.

“You’re not speaking to the carpet, Trent. Head up. Look at me when you’re talking.”

Trent forced his head up, opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. The form leaning against the desk in front of him was not that of the morphed Black DinoThunder Ranger. It was still recognisably Dr Oliver; short spiked brown hair, the tattoos from his Dad’s photos on display for the first time. But there was something off about his skin, the slit eyes were definitely not human - flickering as they were with a green light - and the tattoos were wreathing across his skin. Skin that, in places, looked more like the whites scales of a serpent than the tanned flesh he was used to. The plain black t-shirt, and loose green trousers where familiar enough, but according to the others, their teacher wasn’t meant to be able to demorph.

In the interest of actually seeing his bed sometime tonight, Trent ignored the mystery and started again. “Prince in White, Protector of Earth, Conqueror of Earth, Protector of the Great Power, Prince of Darkness, Gridmaster of…two things.” Trent closed his eyes as he swayed slightly. “I’m sorry, Sir, I’m just…”

“Exhausted.” Thomas offered for him, stepping forward to place a hand on Trent’s cheek, the sharp tips of his claws resting gently against the young Ranger’s skin. “I can see that. But I can’t let you go until I know how much of a security risk you are.” Trent struggled not to flinch away from the hand, caring though the gestured seemed. “What do you know about the Court?”

“The Court, the Ranger’s Court. Founded in the year two thousand C.E. by the Earth calendar. They maintain the balance of the Power, and are independent from all other authorities. The Court regulates all Rangers, and supports them. There are no active Rangers not affiliated with the Court. Rangers aren’t introduced to the Court until they have passed their Gauntlet. The current leader of the Court is the Prince in… you’re the current leader.” Trent swayed slightly, finding himself leaning into the hand still resting against his cheek for support no matter how much he didn’t want to. “All members of the Court are bound by an Oath. I…that’s all I can remember.”

“It’s okay, Trent.” Thomas said, softly, running his thumb along the teen’s cheek bone. Trent closed his eyes as he futilely sought to stop the trembling running through him, whether from fear or the craving for the physical display of affection he neither knew nor cared. “What about the Alliance?”

“The UAE, or United Alliance of Empires, regularly mistranslated as the United Alliance of Evil. A group of Empires spanning several galaxies which have united to form a coalition in order to fight against the Council of Light, or CoL. The Alliance follows one Emperor, currently Lord Zedd of Nim, but many people have a say in the Alliance council and as such help run, and make decisions. The Alliance has a firm rule that children are not targets in war. No child, as judged by their own peoples standards may be killed, permanently maimed, or sent to war as soldiers if it can be at all avoided. Earth is considered Alliance territory, and the personal property of the Prince in White. The Alliance is…The Alliance is currently beset by rebels from within their own borders following a…The Rogue.

I’m sorry, Sir, there was other information.” Trent was shaking almost uncontrollably now. He knew there was something else he had read about the Rogue, something important, but he couldn’t remember it.

“I understand Trent. You’ve told me enough for now. Though I will say, you are very well informed. I only have a couple more questions, but firstly to answer the one you didn’t ask. I’m not trapped morphed. I have, however, lost control over my magic. That includes the glamour I normally wear. Seeing as the other three don’t know anything about me other than that I’ve been a Ranger several times previously, I needed an excuse for them not to see my face. It also isn’t really a good idea for me to go out too much. My abilities can be quite, destructive.”

Trent’s mind called up twenty year old images from his superhero collection of the Green Dragon Ranger’s original rampage, and couldn’t help but agree.

“And they won’t be finding out anything more about my past, will they, Trent?”

“No, Sir.”

“Now, tell me how you broke the darkness corrupting the gem?”

Trent really didn’t want to answer that. Of all the questions he had to ask, the fact that it was one of the most obvious didn’t mean Trent was any more prepared. If Trent had been less tired, if they had been anywhere else, if it had been Dr Oliver asking, Trent probably would have lied, or at least fudged the truth. As it was, the White Ranger knelt in silence for several minutes as he tried to come up with a way of answering that would satisfy the man in front of him, but not implicate his Dad. Eventually, the Prince ran out of patience.

“Trent.” The growl past straight through the teen, resonating even in his bones. The warning was clear.

“Dad freed me.” Trent admitted simply in the end. Thomas stepped back and folded his arms, leaning against the desk. Much as he hated it, Trent felt hollow at the loss of contact.

“So Anton knows.” Thomas’ voice was relaxed, almost pleased. “That makes things easier. Maybe I’ll invite him around for coffee in a couple of days. Its not like he hasn’t seen this form before. And its ‘my Dad freed me, Sir.’”

No, no, no, no, no, that was the last thing Trent wanted. Whilst it was possible Dr Oliver would help his Dad, from what he read about Thomas he wouldn’t put it past the man to use it as an easy win. Besides, He’d _promised._

“Final question, Trent, then you can go home if you want.” Huh? “Where did you get the White Dino Gem?”

And here he’d thought the previous question was bad. Trent swallowed carefully before speaking, already bracing, though for what he wasn’t sure. “Mesagog’s lab, Sir.” He made sure to tag on the title this time.

“And what, precisely, where you doing in Mesagog’s lab?”

“Exploring?”

“I’m not in the mood for twenty questions, Trent, and you won’t like it if I have to drag the answers out of you.”

“An invisiportal opened up, I went through it.”

“Ignoring exactly how stupid that was, a topic we will be returning to at a later date, where was the portal? I won’t warn you again, Trent.”

He took a deep breath. “My Dad’s office, Sir.” Trent wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting. Violent destruction, curses, denial. it certainly wasn’t a relaxed head tilt and a “huh”. “In my defence, the first time it just dropped me outside Cyberspace.”

“Just how many times have you seen invisiportals in Anton’s office?” There was a hint of disbelief in Thomas’ voice.

“Three, I think, Sir.”

“Really? I didn’t expect him to be so reckless, though with his history I’m not sure why. I certainly didn’t expect him to put you at so much risk. What with the effort he went to hide you from me.”

“What?” Trent felt the blood drain from his face in shock.

“Anton and I built the Tyrannodrones and the Zords together, Trent. He went missing just before Mesagog disappeared, and now Mesagog has returned so has he. I’m not an idiot, I just thought he would take your safety a bit more seriously.” Thomas’ eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable sending you home knowing that.”

“I’ll be fine,” Trent pleaded, panicking. “Dad won’t hurt me, and the arrangement,”

“The arrangement only protects the mansion from me, Trent. As long as you were working with Mesagog it protected you as it protects the other Ranger’s homes from him. But it is his territory. And whilst Anton might not hurt you, he isn’t protecting you, and don’t bother trying to tell me Mesagog isn’t fond of torture.”

Trent flinched at the memories that evoked, but he couldn’t abandon his Dad. Bands tightened around his throat and chest. “Please, please, Sir, Prince. I just want to go home. He saved me. I can’t leave him. Please.”

The Prince dropped down onto the floor beside him. “Trent, look at me. Look at me. Hysteria won’t help. I can’t take you away from him if you don’t want to, Trent. That’s it, just breath. I can’t technically keep you from your Dad. If you want to go home, I’ll take you home tonight. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me like this before.”

Slowly his breathing evened out, and Trent felt himself relaxing. The worry and care in the voice, that had been Dr Oliver. He could trust Dr Oliver.

“I’m just worried about you, Trent.”

“I know, Sir. But I want to try it.”

“Okay, your morpher is connected to the communication network now, so if need be, you call.”

Trent nodded, relieved.

“I want you to come around after school on Monday, we still have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And Trent, You have to know, if you go back and we do need to get you out, there is only one way. If you don’t go back, I can probably square the guardianship papers with Anton, and it will just be part of you changing sides. You go back, you place yourself back under your Father’s authority. Technically Mesagog has all the same rights over you as Anton. To override your Guardian, I would have to actually be your Gridmaster. I’ll give you some reading material, in which will be the Oath that centres around. It’s a magically binding arrangement, Trent. It can’t be undone, and legally I can’t take that Oath until you’re eighteen, that is several months away. So think very carefully.”

 

 

 

_ 4.15pm, Sunday, 27th January, 2013 _

 

Tommy was in his office late the following afternoon when the perimeter alarm pinged and his morpher chirped. “Dr Oliver?”

“In my office, Trent.”

Tidying away his research, Tommy rose to his feet and moved to step around the desk as the door opened to reveal a dripping Trent, looking even more tired than he had the night before. Although that may be due to the drowned rat impression. Ignoring the water pooling around him, Trent stepped straight towards Tommy, and knelt at his feet. Before the Black Ranger could say anything, Trent started speaking. “I swear, freely and without hesitation, to serve my lord Prince, and Gridmaster. To stand as his sword and his shield. To act by his will in all things. My blood is his to spill, my life is his to reap. As he wishes, so it shall be. By the Power, this I swear.”

The magic in the room rose and swirled, far stronger than Tommy would have expected. But even as he tried to hold it back - because no matter what he had said last night about only choices, this was illegal - Tommy felt his power take form. The White Falcon fighting for release from his hands. Tommy really didn’t have any choice, not with his control shot the way it was at the minute. Which he was starting to realise might have been Trent’s idea. As it was he couldn’t stop it, the ritual would just spiral out of control, and destroy everything around them. Probably severely hurting Trent.

He took the young Ranger’s right arm, pushing up his sleeve. Slowly the magic bled from Tommy’s hands into Trent’s skin. White swirls and sweeping arches spread, forming the Prince’s signature mark of the White Falcon. Finally done, Tommy raised his hands, the image - tattoo like - etched onto Trent’s skin fluttered to life. Tommy spoke, fighting to keep his voice steady against the panic, both for himself and Trent. Trent who had been so against this less than twenty four hours ago.

“Your Oath is heard and accepted. Mine to command, mine to protect. Your blood is as my blood. May the Power Protect us.” Tommy paused for a second, in deference to the importance of the moment, then grabbed hold of Trent again, hauling him to his feet. “What the hell where you thinking?”

The boy swayed dangerously. “That you couldn’t be blamed for something you couldn’t stop?”

“That was very dangerous, Trent. You could have levelled the house. I said that was a last resort. What happened to change your mind?”

“I’d really rather not…” The sentence trailed off as Trent pitched forward, only Tommy’s quick reflexes catching him.

“Trent, how much sleep did you get last night?”

“A couple of hours, I think.”

Mentally ranting about stubborn teenagers, Tommy steered Trent back out into the hall and along the corridor, glad he’d had the foresight to prepare a room when they had first encountered an evil White Ranger. Directing Trent to sit on the bed, Tommy grabbed a towel, a white shirt and shorts. Dropping the items onto the bed, he asked the almost catatonic teen if he was okay to get dry and changed.

At a response to the affirmative, Tommy left him too it. Fairly sure he would come back in an hour to Trent passed out still in wet clothes. But he would deal with that then. First, fingers already dialling, he had a friend to interrogate.

 

 

 

 

“Mercer speaking.” The familiar voice answered.

“Anton, we need to talk.” Tommy didn’t even try to keep the growl out of his voice

“I’m afraid this really isn’t a good time, Tommy.” Tommy really wasn’t in the mood for the business man’s posturing. Not now. Not with his magic wreathing under his skin like a dull burning itch. Not with one of his Rangers breaking to pieces in his hands as a result of this man’s actions.

“I’m not asking, Mercer.” Tommy responded coldly. “If my control wasn’t shot to pieces right now, I’d either already be in your office, or you would be in my cells. Where are you?”

There was a brief pause, during which Tommy was almost considering ending this here and now, before Anton spoke. “In my office, at home.”

“Then you have five minutes to clear the room before I arrive, if you ever want to see Trent again.”

“You can’t carry that through, Thomas.” Tommy almost laughed out loud.

“Really? I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Five minutes, Anton.” He hung up without waiting for an answer.

 

 

 

 

Five minutes later, Tommy stepped out of the invisiportal into Anton’s office. The millionaire turned from where he was standing at the window to face him.

“To what do I owe the honour of a visit from the Prince himself?”

Tommy was fairly sure his eyes flashed green. “Don’t play coy with me, Anton,” He all but snarled back. “You can tell me what happened last night and this morning.”

The scientist looked confused, but unconcerned. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

“Really.” The smirk which graced Tommy’s lips was that of a predator about to demolish its prey, and he knew it. “So you can’t think of any reason why your seventeen year old son, who was begging me to take him home last night, showed up at my house twenty minutes ago. Walked in the door, and proceeded to take advantage of my lack of control of my magic to pledge himself to me.”

Anton opened his mouth to answer, but didn’t really seem to know what to say. Tommy kept talking. “Pledged himself to me as Gridmaster, Anton. I own him. So if you ever want to see him again outside of a battlefield, I suggest you give me a very good reason.”

“And if I can’t?” Anton managed eventually.

“Then I may just order him to bring me your head as a test of his loyalty.” Tommy said, completely seriously. He took a great deal of satisfaction from seeing how pale the normally unfazeable businessman went at that.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I like you, Anton, and even consider you a friend. But for all your usefulness, I have other scientists, other engineers. You are not irreplaceable. Trent is mine now, and I will do whatever it takes to protect what is mine.”

“I see.” There was a pause, then, as Anton walked around his desk and withdrew a set of papers from the top drawer and laid them out. “Custody papers, I had then drawn up the day I realised Trent had taken the White gem. All they need is your signature.”

Tommy suppressed his surprise, stepped forwards, and looked them over carefully. At first glance they seemed similar to what he once held for Justin. But he wanted Adam to look them over before he signed anything.

“I’ll get these back to you. Now last night?”

For the first time since this whole mess started, Tommy saw Anton’s shoulders slump. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “I used to have more control, more awareness. I don’t know how much longer I can fight him.”

Because the more you fight the darkness in you, the stronger it gets. Tommy knew that from experience, could have told him a long time ago, but didn’t say anything.

“I have no idea what happened last night. I remember Trent coming home completely exhausted, and going to bed. I think I was in the lab until lunch. I regained control about two this afternoon. Figured I might as well make some use of the day in here. I thought Trent was either out with his friends or asleep. Is he okay?”

That should have been the first question out of your mouth, Tommy thought cynically. “He’s fine, as far as I can tell. Though apparently he only got a couple of hours sleep last night. He’s crashed out in his room at mine at the moment.”

Anton closed his eyes and took a deep breath, visibly steadying himself. Despair clearly etched on his features. “Shall I sent someone around with his things tonight?”

“It’s probably best. Maybe write him a letter explaining, in case he thinks you’re throwing him out.”

Anton’s eyes snapped open in indignation. “I would never.”

“He doesn’t know that, Anton, and forgive me for wanting to limit contact.” Or not. Tommy really couldn’t care either way at this point.

“I understand. Look after him, please. Keep him safe. Don’t treat him like one of your pawns. I do care about him, Thomas.”

“I take care of what is mine, Anton. He is a bright kid with a lot of potential. Trent has a great future ahead of him, I promise you that.” Not necessarily good, but then Tommy had long since disregarded such childish notions. Collecting the papers, Tommy stepped back towards to invisiportal. “You know my address, I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

Merely nodding in acknowledgment, he stepped through the portal, landing on the flagged stone of the Lair’s second level with practiced ease. The level the kids hadn’t found. It was only once he had deactivated the portal at the console, that he realised he wasn’t alone.

“Do I want to know why you took an invisiportal to Mercer’s?” The red head asked, stepping out of the supply cupboard.

“We needed to talk.” Tommy answered Hayley simply, half bemused she didn’t already know.

“Does this have anything to do with the fact Trent is asleep upstairs?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, not surprised that Hayley knew he was there, just confused as to how. “The kid left a trail of water through the house. I mopped up.”

“I can’t have been gone twenty minutes.”

“Bad timing then, or good depending on how you look at it. What’s with the paperwork?”

“Custody papers.”

Understanding dawned on Hayley’s face. “Want me to send them to Adam for you?”

“Please. I need to check on Trent. Anton is sending his things around tonight.”

“That was fast.”

“Anton doesn’t do things by half, Hayley.”

“But why now? What’s changed?”

“What changed is that I was too soft on Trent last night, which resulted in him doing something really stupid this evening.” Tommy was still kicking himself for that, though if he managed to slide this passed the Alliance and the Court it could work out very well.

“Meaning?”

“Next time someone so much as starts to mutters the words ‘I swear, freely and without hesitation’, you have my permission to shoot them.”

Hayley froze, cogwheels turning in her eyes. “Trent is seventeen.”

“I know. He is also much sharper than I have been giving him credit for.” He started up the stairs, then paused and turned back. “Actually, since you’re calling Adam, could you find out what Silvy and Justin are up to?”

“Do you think introducing him to the rest of the family this soon is a good idea?”

“Probably not, but I’m more concerned that I have an untrained magic user in the house and at the moment I won’t be able to undo the damage.”


End file.
